


GOT Simulation: Before AGOT

by CreativeLiterature



Series: GOT Simulation [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28522410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeLiterature/pseuds/CreativeLiterature
Summary: A year before the events of AGOT, five friends become self-inserts to enjoy the peace before the war. Short, light hearted and nonsensical.
Relationships: Dickon Tarly/Margaery Tyrell, Jaime Lannister/Marei, Renly Baratheon/Loras Tyrell
Series: GOT Simulation [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089383
Kudos: 1





	GOT Simulation: Before AGOT

**PROLOGUE**

"The simulation will be set a year before the events of Game of Thrones," spoke Aemon Targaryen as he hovered above the five of them, standing in front of their simulation panels. "You may choose any character to become as at their age at this time."

"Can I be Cersei?" Grace cooed. "She's so pretty."

"Cersei's the queen," Adam told her.

"She's married to that fat king," Clara pointed out.

"Oh," Grace wilted, beaming once more with sincerity as the rest of them looked on their panels. "Who else should I be?"

Max scanned the list, but not many people took his fancy. Ser Gregor was powerful, but intimidated the smallfolk and he liked to joke and laugh. Beric Dondarrion looked alright, and Edmure Tully…

"I want to be her," Clara pointed out, at Dacey Mormont. "She gets to fight and she's sworn to the north."

Aemon Targaryen nodded, gliding past Zoe who made her selection as Brienne of Tarth, and to where Adam glanced up, blushing a little to select Loras Tyrell of Highgarden.

"I'll be Margaery!" Grace declared, as Clara rolled her eyes and Adam hoped to help a little. "She's really cute."

"Not really," Clara scathed. "All she does is ride horses."

"I like horses," Grace replied defensively, making her selection.

"And you?" Aemon asked, as Max's eyes lit up and made his selection.

"Jaime Lannister," he smirked, as Adam was pleased at his joy, Clara doubtful, Zoe shaking her head with her arms folded, and Grace clapping with gusto. "The Kingslayer."

"Very well," Aemon clapped his hands, and the five felt their world disappear. "Begin!"

Clara/DACEY

Clara glanced around at her new surroundings, feeling the latent dextrous skill within her muscles. She was on an island best populated by pine and fir trees, with the sea washing against the cliffs and rocky outcrops far out. Wooden lean-tos and houses were erected with bigger logs used for taller houses and smoke pluming from fires where meat was being cooked.

Fish was a common occurence Clara noted as she strolled the coasts, watching men with their harpoons or rod try their hand at catching a meal for their families. Red skin buffeted by the salty winds and wrinkles from the hard life of repelling ironborn of old, Clara nevertheless featured dark hair and a slim build, her tunic patterned with the black bear of House Mormont.

From afar, she could see Mormont Keep, a castle with plumes of smoke from the chimney and the gate featuring a woman who held a battleaxe and suckled a baby at her breast.

Smiling grimly to herself, Clara knew this would be no easy endeavor to exist on an island like this, far north of the rest of Westeros. But here she stood, a sword by her side and ready to learn battle if it ever came to it.

Max/JAIME

Max stood outside Robert's chambers, yawning loudly for he was bored waiting on duty for the king to stop fucking whores. His cock twitched at the women moaning and grinned slyly to Ser Barristan who looked affronted to be presented with such vanity of will.

"Ser Jaime," Barristan's stern gaze was enough to sour Max's moment of fun.

"Sorry," Max replied, not meaning it. In white armor he matched Barristan the Bold in looks, but he was golden haired and comely while Barristan was wrinkled and had aged.

Grace/MARGAERY

Grace glanced in the looking glass, and sighed with an appreciative smile as a butterfly flew past her open window and settled on the balcony, its cobalt blue wings stilling.

Her hair was brown and her countenance lovely, wearing a green gown which cinched her waist and presented her breasts most pleasingly. All in all, she was a perfect match.

"Yay!" Grace clapped her hands, gasping to hear a knock at the door. "Come in?"

Alla, Elinor and Megga came in, as in shrieks as she was to see her prettied and perfumed.

"Hi," Grace said awkwardly, rising to greet them all.

Leading the way, Grace rather felt like Clara herself, as the girls gabbed and chatted and allowed Grace to enjoy the sights and sounds as they descended a set of spiral stairs, a fresh breeze through the arrow slit windows and out into a corridor where soon she could see the fields of her home splayed like a pigmentation of plantations.

"Oh, it's beautiful," Grace gushed.

Alla was shy, Elinor cheeky and Megga loud, but Grace loved them all.

"Let's go see your brother," Elinor tittered behind her hands.

"You're betrothed to Alyn," Megga scolded, busty with her larger figure.

"And it shall stay that way," Elinor smiled, taking Margaery's arm in her own. "With chaste Lady Margaery by my side!"

Zoe/BRIENNE

Within Evenfall Hall, Zoe could see the sapphire blue waterfalls that made Tarth such a beautiful island. Across the sea was Storm's End, where her father swore allegiance to their liege lord, Renly of House Baratheon.

Gripping her fist and feeling the potent strength of her knuckles, Zoe was excited to test her skill on more than just a training dummy. She had seen her reflection in a pool of water and had not recoiled though she looked so different, with hair cut short the colour of straw, measly face and broad shoulders. She would kick anyone's ass who messed with her.

Adam/LORAS

Adam swung his sword at Garlan, who parried it easily and who ached for two more opponents against whom to train. Three golden roses on green decorated Adam's shield as he lifted it up on instinct, rolled to avoid Garlan's strike and lashed out with his sword, before the titter of laughs took his caustic ire and Garlan had him on the ground.

"Yield," Garlan was only half joking, offering his hand to help pull his brother aloft, as Adam was red faced, sweat streaming and shaking with shame.

"You should try harder," Grace cupped her hands and called, giggling with her fair-weather friends.

"Whatever," Adam stomped away, irritated that his loss had angered him so, especially the presence of Grace and the laughing girls, and took a pull from his wineskin that fortified him. He turned to Garlan who had beckoned his friends to fight against further, and Adam went into the bath house to remove his armor and enjoy a long soak.

Clara/DACEY

Clara/Dacey's younger sister was Alysane, the opposite in build and stench. Alysane was chunky and wore a lot of layers but that did not diminish her skills in a fight.

Together the two of them walked into Mormont Keep, where the smell of salted meat, fish and wet dogs after the light rain came all at once.

"Girls," Maege called from atop the high table, where she was dealing with crofters whose lands spread amongst the island in short patches. "Come, take a trencher."

Clara sat on one side of her mother as did Alysane, the latter's children coming to her side. Her siblings included two girls and the youngest, Lyanna, as stern faced as Clara herself was sometimes.

"Where's Jorah?" Clara asked, the slip of the tongue making her face redden and glancing away to see her mother's ire prominent on her scowling face.

"You know where," her hoarse, smoky voice curtly considered the matter to be closed.

Max/JAIME

Max had made quick friends of his fellow Kingsguard, notably Sers Meryn and Mandon and Boros. Meryn was sly, Mandon slyer still and Boros just a fat behemoth not unlike Ormi from FFX-2, but Max had them in the palm of his hand not only as a Lannister of Casterly Rock but with the wit which won them to his side that Jaime Lannister did not have.

Still, guarding the king and queen and their family took most of their time, so when Max had his time off he spent it at a tavern, ignoring any who cared for his sullied name and going for those who were charmed by his looks and by his smart alec remarks.

Grace/MARGAERY

Grace rode on her horse alongside Megga, Alla and Elinor, with other ladies in her retinue and an escort of Tyrell guards as she cantered through the fields that patterned outside Highgarden like a pleasing canvas of lush fertility.

Megga kept a steady stream of self-important opinions, while Alla kept to herself and Elinor made eyes at the knights who surrounded their column, mainly green boys whose swords had only ever seen training dummies.

At length they rode through a forest, sunlight peeking through the canopy of leaves from above with the breeze making Grace wistful. Everything was perfect, here in Highgarden.

Zoe/BRIENNE

If Zoe knew an opponent that could best her, she hadn't yet faced him. Scores of lads had tried and she knocked them down, not as prone as Brienne to the tongue-tied, moody silences for which she was known.

Having found her vigor, men twice her age weren't keen to approach her, but Zoe find solace in that as she arranged for a ship to take her to Storm's End, while her father watched her from afar and Zoe's knuckles twisted on the hilt of her sword by her side.

Adam/LORAS

Still smarting from the loss against Garlan, Adam decided to spend his time gardening instead of drilling in the yard. Gardens aplenty with bees buzzing and fresh soil just waiting for seeds were eager under Adam's hands to be planted and receive the sun and rain's nourishment.

At length Adam heard footsteps but it wasn't until he shielded his eyes from the sun to glance up, that his grandmother's cane wobbled by and stabbed aimlessly for his hands, brown with soil.

"Loras," Olenna demanded, as Adam winced at the pain. "Stand up, won't you?"

To greet her came as no surprise, the Queen of Thrones by which he knew her, and her irritable personality better so.

"I hear you're riding for the stormlands tomorrow," Olenna chirped, her beady eyes taking in Adam's doublet which was rife with soil than the sweat of swordsmanship. "Tell Renly he should try harder to press little Margaery under the king's nose."

"I'll try," Adam said dampeningly, not wanting Grace to replace Cersei let alone be married to that fat oaf.

"You'll do more than try," Olenna insisted. "Find a way to persuade Renly."

Clara/DACEY

Clara sat to one side on the ship among half a dozen which took her and Maege from Bear Island to the mainland, but to land at Deepwood Motte on the western coast of the north.

Alysane would remain behind among other master at arms and advisers, but it was to Maege who had received the invitation from Winterfell and Clara had very respectfully asked to join.

"You're my heiress, Dacey," Maege had told her gruffly. "You must retain counsel in our homeland."

"I want to come," Clara had shaken her head, but upon seeing her mother's frowning face. "I want to see the Starks."

"They're not much different than you and I," Maege commented, but assenting all the same.

Now as the ships creaked, Deepwood Motte loomed out of the fog. As land came to, the ships disembarked and Clara followed her mother, only scarce belongings such as armor and finery fit for a northern feast were brought with them.

Upon entering the motte-and-bailey castle, both Clara and Maege were soaked with rain. Lord Galbart Glover greeted them in the main hall and had servants show them to their quarters. Clara saw that in her chambers a fire was lit to ward off the cold, and fur pelts across the featherbed, however dismal and grey the castle and the weather looked.

Max/JAIME

It did not escape Max's notice that the queen was sexy indeed, and a handy reminder to learn that Jaime was of an incestuous relationship with Cersei, which made just fine to him. All the same, as Cersei raked his back with her fingernails, Max could not entirely hide his vigor for what was his real first time, and his stabbing his cock into her caused a yowl from Cersei and he felt her rage across his face with the full force of a slap.

"Watch it," Cersei rebutted, at once terrified but supremely furious and he could not deny he shriveled to be denied of his fulfillment.

Max let Cersei ride him as his fear of being found out he was not Jaime trumped his passion, as he felt himself let loose and in all sort of agony let his face fly free of expression, mangled and torn the sheets were in his grasp to enjoy what amounted to five seconds of release.

"Don't hurt me next time," her slap upon his chest made to reduce his vigor, his supreme moment of climax, the swell of reddening upon his muscular chest as Jaime Lannister, the slow warmth that would otherwise have been an enjoyable meltdown of receding adrenaline.

Grace/MARGAERY

Grace watched from the parapets as Adam made his departure, a dozen riders with him flying the rose of Highgarden so that he might easily cross over into the stormlands.

"Mother," Grace turned to Alerie, who was gentle and kind and sewed and instructed the servants and accommodated any guests who were staying to meet with Mace Tyrell.

"Yes, sweetling?" Alerie chirped to her, much nicer than Olenna was with her sharp, desultory barbs and all what she thought, spared no niceties in informing her the harsh realities of the world.

Zoe/BRIENNE

Zoe arrived at Storm's end with as much of a reception as could be expected, for the heiress of Tarth and as a competent warrior, albeit a woman to the dismay of iron-willed men. In her cobalt armor with the sun-and-moon sigil of her House, Zoe was less open than Brienne was, less guileless and certainly a great deal more suspicious, but just as keen to knock others into the ground when they questioned her methods or her rule.

Renly wasn't in residence; he was at the capital serving as master of laws for the king. Still, his castellan Ser Cortnay Penrose was at hand to greet her, however tired and busy he was settling matters on his own while his liege was away at court.

Adam/LORAS

To reach Storm's End, Adam rode up the roseroad and stayed at Bitterbridge, the seat of House Caswell. The lord present there held no great claims to strength of will, but the feast and ale was still as good as any House in the Reach could have prepared.

From Bitterbridge, Adam rode into the kingswood and turned east into the stormlands, arriving at Bronzegate. Lord Buckler gave him his hospitality, if not for his close association with his liege the Lord of Storm's End, who was also the king's brother.

At last, Adam rode through the gates of Storm's End, favourably greeted and treated by Ser Cortnay who showed him to Renly's chambers, decorated with fabrics and silk.

"Maester Jurne has already sent the raven, informing Lord Renly of your visit," Ser Cortnay inclined his head. "There is some sparring in the yard between the knights and Selwyn Tarth's daughter if you wish to participate?"

Clara/DACEY

Clara rode her horse alongside Maege and the retainers they had brought from Bear Island. In their furs and armor, Clara looked upon Winterfell as it loomed out of the mist, paddocks and granaries surrounding an outer wall that was smaller than the inner, the gates rising high, horsemen in the distance riding with flags of the direwolf banner high to mark them as outriders.

"Hail," called one, their horses pulled tightly by the reins. "Lady Mormont."

"And my daughter," Maege indicated Clara, who was noticed by the Stark men within the visors of their helms. "We are here by Lord Stark's invitation."

"Of course, my lady," the soldiers replied, forming an honor guard circle around Maege and Clara. "It was not our intention to cause disrespect."

"Nor did you," Maege was gruff at that, settling in her saddle as they were accompanied to the castle of Winterfell.

The gates opened to permit them once they had arrived, and Clara glanced around at the formidable might once the gates closed behind them. Across the moat and now within the inner walls, there were courtyards and halls and kennels where dogs barked and a blacksmith whose hammer rung true on the steel he beat like a disobedient wife.

Clara dismounted her horse so that Hullen might take them into the stables and followed her mother into the great hall, where Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn rose to receive them.

"Maege," Eddard bowed, as Catelyn curtsied, always slightly discomfited by women in armor.

"Ned," Maege wrapped him in a hug, as cordial as ever to a man as grave as he. "It's good to be back at Winterfell."

Clara cast her eyes about the room, the trestle tables and candles and servants scurrying who were to prepare tonight's feast, where her mother would sit at Eddard's right hand side as the guest of honor.

"How fares Bear Island?" Catelyn asked politely, removed from her duties as hostess while Ned excused himself to talk with the steward and Maege was led to her rooms by a servant.

"Fine," Clara watched her mother go, turning to Catelyn. "Where are your children?"

"They're outside," Catelyn admitted with a small smile. "Well, all but Sansa who remains in her room with the septa. Arya's quite difficult to keep penned in to her sewing."

"Maybe she should learn the sword," Clara noticed, regretting it as Catelyn flared up at that, since it was not her place to question Catelyn's parenting.

"In her own time, perhaps," Catelyn replied, thin lipped. "But that time is not now."

"My bad," Clara sloped away, to follow her mother into adjacent chambers, piped warm with hot water from the springs beneath Winterfell, and in considerably better state than she was used to in Mormont Keep or during her stay in Deepwood Motte.

Max/JAIME

Of all the swordsmen he could expect to spar against, Ser Barristan was truly his match, as Max had managed to convince him to step off his pedestal and offer a good fight. Barristan was old, but with every swing Max could not deny he was sweating like a pig and feeling all adrenaline correlate to his body, a flood of emotion, a swing of steel and soon Barristan had him on the run, as Max's initial cockiness had worn down and Barristan was no stranger to battles, leaving Max to shamefully lose with honor.

"You're good," Max was red in the face, as the crowd who had gathered in the yard applauded for Barristan the Bold, never Jaime the Kingslayer.

Zoe/BRIENNE

Zoe approached Adam coming into the yard, where scores of bruised and bloodied melee combatants were aghast to have been beaten by a girl.

"Zoe," Adam brightened to see her, instantly curious whispers came from around him.

"Brienne," Zoe corrected him harshly. "Brienne of Tarth. And you must be Ser Loras, am I right?"

Adam faltered to meet Zoe's questioning gaze which brooked no argument.

"That is correct," Adam swept her a courtier's bow to better disguise his misstep.

Clara/DACEY

Out in the yard, Clara saw Robb sparring with Jon Snow, while near the archery butts Theon watched with folded arms and a cocky grin as Arya hid her talents from sight. Bran was climbing one of the towers, and Sansa and Rickon were not present, somewhere else.

As she made her presence known, Robb stopped the fight to bow, as did all of them, but for Arya whose eye was focused on the butt and Theon who cast his eye about her before he too offered a bow as a Greyjoy of Pyke.

"Hi," Clara made her way towards Arya, watching the girl pull back the bow string and fire an almost bullseye, well aware her mother could come out at any second.

"You won't tell, will you?" Arya was almost pleading, clearly not wanting to go back to sewing.

Clara shook her head and Arya nodded, notching another arrow to her bow. Clara felt Theon's eyes upon her, while from afar she heard Robb and Jon clash steel as the master-at-arms Ser Rodrik give them pointers.

Max/JAIME

Having had sex for the first time with Cersei, Max made sure to visit every whorehouse of repute or otherwise to experience it with as many women as possible. The chink of Lannister gold let alone Jaime's good looks made it as easy to lift a feather to have two or three girls at once, fully sated as he could be, and remembering only the luscious locks and long legs and firm breasts, faces or names beyond count.

His other sword defeated several combatants in sparring, but Ser Barristan eluded him for he did not permit to fight again, preferring to stay by the king's side than be a training dummy for Jaime who had already proven his worth.

Sullied somewhat by the Kingslayer moniker, Max managed to overlook that with time and bested many young squires and grizzled knights until the heat of his stomach warmed once more and he bumped into Littlefinger upon entering one of the brothels.

"You honor my small establishment by your many visits, Ser Jaime," Petyr affected a mocking bow.

"You own this place?" Max asked.

"That I do," Petyr smirked. "My girls tell me you never stop coming."

"Yeah," Max attempted a rueful smile.

Grace/MARGAERY

Atop Highgarden, to ride horses and sew with her mother and vaguely listen to her grandmother, Grace wanted to see her friends but her grandmother was insistent that she remain within the Reach.

"Your brother is making good work in Storm's End for our cause," Olenna warned her. "You will stay as blameless as possible, an unvarnished rose ready to be plucked and presented to Robert Baratheon when the time is nigh - "

"The king?" Grace worried. "But isn't he already married?"

"Not when he sets Cersei aside," Olenna told her in that sharp clipped tongue way of hers. "He will need a wife to prop up his kingdom with brings the gold of Highgarden. Lord Tywin will have no-one to support him when Robert decides the time is nigh."

"I don't want to be married to the king!" Grace replied, running out of the chamber and down the steps, her face half-caked with tears.

Zoe/BRIENNE

Zoe was panting from a good fight, but nonetheless glad she had beaten her opponent, whose rose-encrusted armor was dirty as he got to his feet, his brow muddy.

"I'm not surprised," Adam allowed, though titters from the crowd ensued. "Given what I know from the books."

"You're alright," Zoe nodded, feeling the lactic acid in her muscles. "I almost lost to you."

"Well, you're good, too," Adam lightened, but feeling the thudding resentment that for all his swordsmanship skill, he had lost twice and it was hitting harder than any victories.

Adam/LORAS

As Adam sloped towards the bathhouse, a light touch on his shoulder made him whip around like a serpent.

"What is it?" he demanded.

"I thought you might like to know," apologised the servant. "Lord Renly has arrived."

Clara/DACEY

At the feast held that night to honor the visit of the Mormonts, Clara came down in a green gown patterned with the black bear of her House. She took her seat beside Catelyn, while Maege sat beside Lord Eddard in chainmail and fur that befit her comfort.

With singers and smoky meat and mead, Clara did not consider it much different than on Bear Island, except there was more populace and the hall was larger than at home.

On her other side was Robb, fourteen years and every bit his father but for the reddish tinge to his hair. He was courteous and inquired after her health and life on Bear Island, and Clara answered him perfunctorily without seeming too rude.

Max/JAIME

As Max spent most of his time guarding the king, he did not fail to see his sister the queen by his side. When he met Cersei's eyes she shot him a look so filled with hatred he could not deny he felt a shiver that his cover had been blown, that somehow he had acted in such a way that he was not Jaime, and that she felt betrayed for having slept with this imposter.

As it turned out, much later in the evening, he was quite wrong.

"How dare you - " Cersei shook with fury, pushing him away when Max made to hit on her, in the privacy of her chambers with her Lannister guards flanking the doors outside. "I saw you!"

"Saw me doing what?" Max replied, with the insouciance of a younger brother blamed for all his wrongdoings which were correct.

"That whore," Cersei hissed through her teeth. "My spies tell me she looks just like me!"

"Who?" Max demanded.

"You have lost me, Jaime," Cersei accused, all green eyes and gold finery. "You will pay for this!"

When Jaime left her chambers, part of him was glad he had not been found out as an imposter, but that Cersei was surprised he had sought out whores worried him.

Zoe/BRIENNE

Zoe watched as Renly's retinue rode into Storm's End, bowing to follow protocol to see the finely attired master of laws bid his people a gracious good-day and retreat back into his keep, like a fist bordered around the strongest walls said to be reinforced with magic.

Adam/LORAS

"I don't understand," Renly called after Adam, after what could be considered a swift end to whatever love making might have otherwise occurred. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing," Adam shied away, from what had initially been romantic, but forceful fingers prodding and soon something much larger precedent to going somewhere he had never found all that affectionate. "I'm not in the mood, that's all."

"Loras, you are younger than me and have far more energy on the field of battle or in a bedchamber," Renly pointed out. "Do you no longer desire me?"

Adam looked at Renly's sad face, his countenance that of a younger, slimmer Robert and knew he must tell the truth.

Adam hesitated. "I cannot."

With that, Adam fled from Renly's chambers, quickly finding his armor and his horse, not even bidding goodbye to Zoe, wherever she was if she was still in the vicinity.

With his horse's lathered sweat adding to his own from the brief love making that had ensued, a knife twisted in Adam's guts to know he had effectively done the same to Renly.

Clara/DACEY

At the end of the feast, Clara had made her way to the stables to feed her horse, despite Hullen insisting she should pay no mind during her visit. Nevertheless, brushing his mane she had a sudden urge to ride, and attached his saddle and pulled him by the reins out from under the timbers to see the Stark children crossing into their own chambers.

Clara watched as Robb and Jon and Theon and Sansa and Arya and Bran made their way up the spiral steps, Rickon already in the care of the wet nurse to be received by Catelyn, whose skirts swished on the paved ground as she noticed Clara preparing to depart.

"The gates will close soon," Catelyn called.

"I won't be gone long," Clara hitched onto her horse, and rode out for the wolfswood.

Max/JAIME

"Ser Jaime," Varys creased his lips into a smile, powdered and perfumed in his rich robes to receive Max as he emerged from the bathhouse, steaming but clean. "My little birds have told me of some news that might be to your benefit."

Intrigued, Max followed the eunuch to his chambers, stone cold and boring as far as anyone like Varys would hope to decorate them.

"Your sister has made inquiries regarding your indiscretions at numerous brothels in the capital," Varys looked with some degree of pity at Max's wry expression.

"Why does she care?" Max asked, knowing he must at least keep the secret that Jaime and Cersei were fucking as brother and sister.

"She finds your drinking and visiting pleasure houses too much to stomach," Varys' eyes shone. "She takes it as an insult, a similarity to your brother Tyrion that she would not see repeated."

"I can do what I want," Max flared up.

"And to your great freedom I toast," Varys continued. "Yet your sister wants to make an example, and to your favourite haunt she has sent her spies, and she has asked me to dispose of the girl whom you care most about."

Max's memory flicked back to the whore with golden hair and green eyes, who happened to resemble Cersei only slightly. He didn't care for her any more than the others; but the idea of a girl getting hurt because of his - Jaime's - mad sister was more than he could stomach.

"Did you do it?" Max fingered the hilt of his sword.

"Oh no, good ser," Varys chuckled. "It was all I could do to find you myself and ensure you have a say about it."

"I'll take her out of the city," Max was determined to be a protector for this innocent girl, whatever his misdeeds in the past.

"Surely you can trust me to do that?" Varys twittered. "I know of ways out of the city which would keep her far from the queen's reach."

"Yeah," Max nodded. "But I'm sick of this place, of guarding the king and standing watch while all I get is Kingslayer muttered under their breath. I'm sick of the queen and her jealousy. I'm heading home."

"To Casterly Rock?" Varys alighted. "Your father will be so pleased. Though the king…"

"Screw the king," Max told Varys. "Get Marei out of here and I'll pay you handsomely."

"The pleasure is all mine, and no coin of yours need pass from your hands," Varys bowed elaborately. "I will handle Marei, but what will your sweet sister do when she finds out I've aided in her escape?"

"Yeah," Max nodded. "Then I'll take her. Have her meet me by the Lion Gate."

"How apt, Ser Jaime," Varys crinkled into a smile. "And you are so _very_ brave."

Zoe/BRIENNE

"Where's Loras?" Zoe asked bluntly of one of the men-at-arms under the command of Ser Cortnay, or Lord Renly to be more accurate now that he had returned from the capital.

" _Ser_ Loras departed for the Reach not a few hours ago, my lady of Tarth," the master-at-arms could not be too impolite to a highborn lady of his liege's vassal lord.

"Then that's where I'm heading," Zoe saddled her horse and set out in Adam's wake, the cobalt blue of her armor giving a brilliant sheen despite its dents.

Adam/LORAS

Adam rode down the rose road, stopping at inns along the way paid for with Tyrell gold, but once he reached Highgarden he rode further, past the rows of ripe wheat and barley, of gold roses so attractively laid in lines until he came upon a pond that was precedent to the castle on the rise up ahead, that of Horn Hill, of House Tarly.

Clara/DACEY

Clara had managed to finagle an extended stay at Winterfell, while her mother Maege departed for Deepwood Motte the next day to take what ships she needed to return to Bear Island. One or two ships would await Clara's return, but not for long.

Clara sparred with Jory Cassel, for Ned Stark's children were only teenagers while she was almost a decade older than them. Her wits and wind of skill were hard put against Jory who was a competent swordsman, whose initial wry sense of humour was turned to mud as he panted to keep pace with her, as while his strikes were stronger, she was more agile in avoiding his thrusts.

Arya watched with fascination only once until her septa came to collect her before she could run away, and the boys Robb and Jon and Theon made note of Clara's prowess even as Jory drove her to a stalemate.

Sweating like a pig, Clara retreated to her rooms to bathe and change, into a tunic with the black bear of House Mormont and her black hair flowing down her back, her sword at her side to brush the mane of her horse and resent that she had not won.

Max/JAIME

Late for his post, Max pulled the reins of his horse through the streets of King's Landing, arriving just outside the Lion's Gate where the promise of escape waited. Shining in the gold armor he had chose over the white, his sword in its scabbard, Max was quite ready to cut down any man who opposed him, his hand twisting anxiously on its hilt as he looked around, the gold cloaks eyeing him curiously as though there was some threat they should be aware of, beggars and tradespeople wondering what god smiled on Jaime Lannister.

"Good ser," came a voice, and Max saw her huddled beneath a roughspun cloak, hardly inconspicuous as he helped her onto his horse, where she held his midriff tightly with his hands.

"Open the gates," Max snarled, as the gold cloaks made quick to do as instructed.

He heard the thud of horse's hooves and whirled to see Ser Mandon, his lifeless grey eyes roving over the Kingslayer.

"Ser Jaime," he called. "The queen bids that you return to the Red Keep by her command."

"Nah," Max replied. "I'm leaving. And any man who stops me is dead."

Mandon did not fancy that, so he nodded all the same and careened his horse back in the direction from whence he had came.

Max with his joy of exultation hitched Marei tighter to him, where she was still quivering with fear, quite pale faced with gold locks escaping her shroud, and Max kneed his horse in the side as the gate was raised and galloped down the gold road, with Marei's cry of relief all he needed to know he was doing the right thing.

Grace/MARGAERY

"My lady?" asked one of Grace's handmaids, as Alla, Megga and Elinor turned at the interruption. "There is a, er, lady here to see you. The Maid of Tarth."

"OK," Grace scratched her nose, her visage unmarked as she hurried down the spiral steps and out into the courtyard. Politely greeting her guest was the Lord Seneschal, her uncle Garth.

"Oh my god," Grace gasped.

Zoe/BRIENNE

"Brienne of Tarth," Zoe bowed, as Grace curtsied, glad to have been caught on the periphery of her slip. "You must be Lady Margaery."

"You come all the way from Tarth to visit us, Lady Brienne?" Garth interrupted, stifling Grace's immediate response. "And yet we did not receive word of your coming."

"It's OK!" Grace rushed forward. "I know her."

"How, my niece?" Garth perused her inquisitive expression. "I am surprised you know any warriors that are women."

"Do you want me to leave?" Zoe challenged. "

"Not at all, my lady," Garth's voice dripped insincerity.

"Come on," Grace pressed forward, ignoring her uncle as Zoe stood her ground, having beaten men into the ground and more than willing to do the same to this man. "No, stay there."

Megga, Alla and Elinor remained quite still and chastened at this rebuke as Zoe followed Grace atop a set of stairs set into a parapet, one of the many walls surrounding Highgarden as fortification against enemy attack.

"Sorry about him," Grace was flustered, though beautiful as Margaery could only be.

"Don't worry," Zoe said wryly, her nose broken and armor dented. "Where's Adam? I heard he left Storm's End."

"He hasn't come here," Grace picked at her fingernails. "Where could he be?"

"Can I stay here or will your uncle throw me out?" Zoe asked dryly.

Adam/LORAS

"Lord Tarly," Loras bowed, as Randyll inclined his head. "Thank you for allowing me to visit Horn Hill."

"We were prepared for your visit by way of raven," Lord Tarly replied gruffly, while behind him servants scurried across the courtyard to prepare the feast and lodgings. "Although I did not formally receive word from your father."

"Yes," Adam nodded, quite bereft of meaning since his broken off romance. "There is something I wish to ask you in private..."

"Then I shall see you after the feast," Lord Tarly turned on his heel, quite frustrated and perfunctorily adding, "If you will excuse me, ser."

Clara/DACEY

"Lady Mormont," Roose Bolton's clipped, dry tones swept over her like an unsettling shroud as Clara saw the Lord of the Dreadfort ride in, accompanied by his retainers.

"Roose," Clara bowed all the same, as Roose raised his eyebrows at her informal greeting. "What are you doing here?"

"That is my business, my lady," Roose climbed off his horse and threw the reins to a servant who hurried close by. "Just as is your extended hospitality at Winterfell."

Clara watched him go, as his retinue made accommodations of their own.

"Is he always like that?" Clara asked one of his guards, who glanced to the courtyard to make sure his lord was out of earshot.

"My lord grieves," replied the soldier, eyes alert as around him the populace of Winterfell acknowledged Lord Bolton's arrival and servants prepared the rushes and rolled barrels of ale though their guest preferred hippocras. "He has lost his heir."

"Tough luck," Clara warned, feeling the chill of the north at last. She didn't want to be around to know that she should have done something about Ramsay, not that she wanted to do it to get in Roose's good books. She went to the lists to practice her archery, and when she heard Ned Stark emerge from the hall to talk with Roose, she felt their eyes upon her and missed the bullseye.

Max/JAIME

Riding west along the gold road, Max stayed in inns along the way paid for with his Lannister gold who were more than happy to permit him passage and accommodation.

Marei had cried more than a few times to be out of her element, and Max grit his teeth along the bumpy road when he realised he forgot to pack enough oats for his horse, but upon the first inn they came to, they happily took care of his horse and gave him the finest room in their meagre accommodations.

Huddled from the rain, Max lay in the straw bed with patchy coverlets, holding Marei close and thinking how similar indeed she looked to Cersei; a peasant and a whore lookalike without the finery, but her lip still quivered at the fear that she might be marked by the queen who terrified her.

At sun rise, Max rode with Marei on the back of his horse further west along the gold road, making his presence known to Lord Lydden of Deep Den, whose castle blocked further passage into the westerlands against enemies who would seek to force it.

Here they were received more formally, as House Lydden were vassals to House Lannister. However, Max saw the eyes of his father's vassal lord and his men more than once watch Marei with curiosity, for she was quite obviously part of the smallfolk and uncultured but for the swing of her hips and her beauty, and what else would mark her out as common folk.

Max found his welcome soured, and left early the next morning to continue traveling, this time with an honor guard to follow him until he left their lands, and his horse well fed, at length he rode into Lannisport, finding the best inn he could, purchasing gowns and finery for Marei so she would no longer be shrouded in hooded brown garb, and that she might look more appealing as a highborn lady for when he presented her to his father.

"Lord Tywin?" Marei shook. "But your father - "

As much as Max wanted to be a sellsword and an outcast and have Marei by his side, he knew enough about the game of thrones to know he couldn't stay hidden forever. Plus, he needed the Lannister name and gold to pay for the lifestyle he meant to give her.

"He might be angry 'cos you're not from a big house," Max told her, coming to have affection for being her big knight whom she serviced when not completely terrified. "But I'll protect you, babe."

Grace/MARGAERY

"I wish I could fight like you," Grace said wistfully, as Brienne roundly knocked several knights of Highgarden into the round, not to mention more than a few men-at-arms from the surrounding Reach who had visited to pay homage to their lords' liege.

"No you don't," Zoe told her gruffly, swinging her arm to stop the ache in her shoulder. "You just want some power."

"Yeah," Grace agreed, knowing that she had no guile compared to Margaery's persuasiveness.

Zoe/BRIENNE

With Adam nowhere to be found, Zoe was hardly going to go on an adventure to find him like Brienne might. Besides, if he was roaming the Reach, he would have considerable hospitality as third son of the Lord Paramount of these lands.

Still, though she had caught up with Adam and Grace, there was still Clara and Max to consider. Max was busy guarding the king in his role as Jaime Lannister, and Clara was far in the north, a Mormont of a frozen isle which would take longer than she would like to reach…

Adam/LORAS

"So, you would speak with me?" Lord Randyll asked, or rather demanded in his tone.

"Yes, Lord Tarly," Adam sat in front of Lord Tarly's desk, behind which on the wall hung Heartsbane in a jewelled scabbard. "I have taken note of your son and wish to enlist him as my squire."

"Dickon?" Lord Tarly's tone held a quiet approval.

"Dickon?" Adam repeated. "No, my lord. Sam."

"Samwell has no martial qualities fit for being your squire," Randyll's uppercut was sharp and incisive. "Dickon is of age."

"But Sam is your heir, Lord Tarly," Adam pointed out.

"It is not a question of rank," Randyll replied. "Samwell cannot be your squire because I intend on sending him to the Night's Watch."

"No," Adam breathed, as Randyll stirred infuriatingly at that. "He is your son."

"He will do better at the Wall," Randyll replied, rising all of a sudden. "Unless you plan on withdrawing your offer?"

"No," Adam shook his head, aware he had been outflanked, as Randyll had done years before to Robert in the rebellion. "Dickon will be a fine lad."

"Good," Randyll nodded. "I'll need to send a raven informing your father of our agreement.

"Of course," Adam bowed at Randyll's departure, whose perfunctory nod left lead in his stomach.

Clara/DACEY

Clara saddled her horse, preparing for departure when she heard the excited babble of conversation and saw Jon Snow come into view, with Arya by his side talking about something nonsensical.

Giving it no further thought, Clara climbed into the saddle, her feet in the stirrups and what belongings she had with her, the dark of her hair going to her back.

She had already said her goodbyes to Lord and Lady Stark, and the children had been as polite as they might be, Sansa courteous like her mother. She had seen nothing in Jon Snow all these weeks which led her to believe he favoured her, and so she kneed her horse and rode across the courtyard, leaving him behind as the outer gate rose and out into the light patter of rain she breathed the chill air.

"My lady!"

Clara's heart stilled and for a moment, she alternated between pangs of hope and terror. The horseman who rode towards her lifted his visor, his blue-grey armor ordinary.

"You," Clara's stomach thudded with disappointment, to see Jory, the captain of the household guard come to a stop. Beyond, Winterfell beckoned with its curtain walls and around them, the lay of the land that the peasants held in their grasp to deliver a suitable harvest for their hosts.

"You are not pleased to see me?" Jory's brow puzzled and the curve of his mouth, disappointment.

"I thought you were somebody else," Clara reminded herself.

"Forgive me, my lady," Jory's voice was husky as his body aroma was musky. "I only wished to offer you safe passage back to Bear Island."

"Alright," Clara motioned, not particularly displeased.

Jory's smile was wry, but he pulled his horse alongside hers and accompanied her as the wolfswood swallowed them whole.

Max/JAIME

"Ser Jaime?" knocked and came a voice from outside the room Max had paid for in the inn in Lannisport.

"Yeah, what?" Max called, his arm around Marei who stirred, wiping the drool from her mouth during sleep, glad she did not have to appear delectable as every opportunity with a man as had been her training; though the habit was hard to break out of survival.

"Ser Addam Marbrand is here with some knights… " the servant broke off.

"Stay here," Max warned, vaguely remembering that Addam was a childhood friend of Jaime's, and dressing into his armor to come downstairs into the inn's dining hall.

"Jaime," Ser Addam was grim but glad nonetheless to see him. "Your father has requested I lead your honor guard to Casterly Rock."

"My father?" Max frowned. "He knows I'm here already?"

"Hardly anyone could have missed you," Addam ventured. "When you are ready, we ride."

Max nodded, heading upstairs to where Marei was half-dressed, in the gown Max had bought for her, which only served to enhance her loveliness.

"We're going to see my dad," Max told her. "At Casterly Rock."

"OK," Marei remained stoic, trying to keep it all together. "You'll be with me?"

"Yeah," Max crossed the room and held her in his arms, his cock twitching as it did in her presence, glad he could sate his physical need in a way his real life self could not. "Always."

Grace/MARGAERY

"He's back," Grace pointed, to where she saw the three roses on the banner riding into Highgarden, a Tyrell escort surrounding him as he rode into the courtyard.

Zoe/BRIENNE

Zoe, who enjoyed the lush premises but preferred to swordfight, was glad to have the opportunity of fighting again, as she could barely hold her own against Garlan Tyrell.

She had seen him fight three on one, and personally had he not been married to another - a highborn lady more comely and sweet than she - she might begin a flirtation with him. As it was, Zoe thundered down the steps to see Adam dismount his horse, with Grace following close behind her to see the young squire helping direct their horses into the stables.

"Sister," Adam said to Grace, which needed no animation for it was true in real life as it was in Westeros. "Brienne."

"Ser Loras," Zoe noticed the young boy as capable as the next squire. "Who's he?"

"Dickon Tarly of Horn Hill," Adam was always one for titles, tired from his ride and a bit dispirited, both the girls noticed. "I am to help instruct him in being a knight one day."

"Why?" Grace asked, quite openly. "Do you know him?"

Adam moved forward out of earshot from anyone but Grace and Zoe.

"I asked for Sam, but I was too late; his father's planning on sending him to the Wall…"

"So? Who's he?" Grace chattered in her affable, devil-may-care way that was incongruous with her otherwise foppish sycophancy whenever she felt stifled by peer pressure.

"You wanted to take him from his father," Zoe concluded, as Adam nodded. "But he'd have been exposed as a poor squire before long, so why'd you try?"

"By then we'd be out," Adam outlined his reasons with an emphasis on the last word. "Sam would've had a good time playing in the kitchens or the gardens and I'd send regular ravens to his father about his good progress."

"Lies," Zoe pointed out, but nodding approvingly at the intent all the same.

"So you're gonna look after his brother?" Grace asked, who saw him as quite plain as any young man of ten could be. "You're not leaving again?"

"No," Adam darkened as he saw Zoe's gaze. "I've done enough damage in this simulation as it is. Renly hates me and Sam has no hope… "

"Oh," Grace paused, caring no longer. "What about you, Zoe?"

Adam/LORAS

Dickon did all Adam asked of him, and more. His father's son if not a devoted squire, Adam found no fault with writing letters praising his ability and recognised to some degree the choice Randyll had made in placing Dickon over Sam, in a land where he could not afford to be seen as weak. If Randyll had died suddenly, Sam would be in a poor position to convince his fellow lords and bannermen that he could lead them in battle.

He had not received word from Renly not that he expected any, and did not anticipate a warm greeting were he to return to Storm's End or even the capital. As solely a third son of Lord Tyrell, he could not expect much more out of this simulation other than remaining loyal and attentive as a soldier and knight, and helping his young squire learn all that he could.

Clara/DACEY

Clara rocked in the boat which departed Deepwood Motte, the air making her shiver though she had long since grown used to the cold.

The sailors paddled through the ocean with mists parting before them, and she chewed her lip while wondering what was it about this simulation that kept her from doing what she wanted.

Max/JAIME

Ensconced within Casterly Rock's finest chambers, Max bathed and changed into a doublet, the atmosphere warm with cavernous corridors snaking this way and that.

He came upon his father in his study, steely eyed who glanced up at his entrance.

"Jaime," Lord Tywin motioned for him to sit, noting the slouching insouciance. "Reports suggest you've left Robert's Kingsguard."

"Yep," Max nodded proudly. "He was a fat shit, and Cersei was a bitch to me."

"What your sister thinks does not concern me," Lord Tywin's face was stone. "Your manner of absence was ill done."

"So what?" Max quailed under Lord Tywin's glare, coming to understand why so few spoke out against him. It had been a long time since he had to submit to his father's authority.

"You brought the girl here," Lord Tywin bore down on him with all the coiled fury of a lion prepared to pounce. "As shameless as your brother!"

"Marei?" Max rose in fear as his father's mouth tightened. "Where is she?"

"The docks of Lannisport," Lord Tywin replied curtly, and Max flew from the room, his heart thudding. "I will not tolerate whoring from both my sons."

Max fled the room, making his way down a corridor before he bumped into his uncle Kevan, portly and a lesser lion compared to his older brother.

"Where's Marei?" Max demanded.

"Your father's guards escorted her out," Kevan shook his head and Max grabbed him by the scruff of his doublet.

"Where?" Max demanded as a servant dropped her washing pail in fright, suds oozing over the flagstones.

Grace/MARGAERY

"Hi," Grace waved at Dickon, who sat on a stool scrubbing chain mail "I'm Margaery."

Dickon dropped the brush and deeply bowed. "I know who you are, my lady."

He returned to his task, so Grace picked some oats from the sack nearby and fed her horse, the smell of straw and manure otherwise delighting her that she could be around animals again, from when she used to live on a farm when she was little.

"Has my brother taken you into battle yet?" Grace asked vaguely.

"There's no battle," Dickon replied, wide-eyed. "The realm is at peace."

"Maybe," Grace said to herself, always uncertain. She pet her horse and turned to Dickon. "Have you gone riding before?"

"The sigil of my father is a huntsman, my lady," Dickon kept scrubbing the rust from the chainmail. "He took me stalking when he could, now that my brother… "

Grace sat beside him, aware her alluring presence was causing him to stammer. She closed her hand around his, and saw him close his eyes to breathe in her perfume.

"Margaery!" Alla's voice came like a narrow drone to her ears, like a mosquito.

Flustered, Grace leapt up, her face red and Dickon rushing to hide in the stables. Her curvaceous figure up close, Alla's eyes were a mix of suspicion and surprise.

"It's not what it looks like," Grace made out, as though she were under inquisition from her mother. "I'm - we're just hanging out."

"You looked close enough to - " Alla inhaled deeply. "I won't tell anyone, truly."

"Good," Grace breathed a sigh of relief. But she did not inwardly feel reassured, and panic started to grip the sides of her rib cage as she followed her friend up the spiral staircase into her chambers.

Zoe/BRIENNE

Zoe rode into the capital, the stench and disarray prominent among the children who ran barefoot and dirty through the streets of Flea Bottom.

The sun-and-moon heraldry on the dented armor she wore glinted beneath the sun that rose high in the noon, as she stomped through the streets, men giving her a wide berth thinking she was a muscled man beneath the armor, removing her helmet to snickers and making her way to the sept of Baelor, glittering with rainbow light from the panes above.

Adam/LORAS

Adam rode further than Zoe did, past the capital and up the kingsroad, stopping at inns most likely the one by the crossroad, all while Dickon tagged along, as obedient as Podrick with his father's strength which would prevail.

In the dying sun and gloomy night, the days that bled into weeks as he headed north for Moat Cailin, borrowing men from House Reed to make his way through the swamps, and north of the Neck where all was cold and frozen and wintry.

Shivering in his southron fabrics, Dickon's lips were chapped and his legs wobbly from his mount, as they steadfastly refused to let time go to waste.

Ahead, the curtain walls of Winterfell beckoned.

Clara/DACEY

"Mum," Clara called to Maege, one night when she was sharpening her axe, and Clara had come back from a ride.

"Dacey?" Maege frowned, glancing up from the whetstone.

"I want to ask someone to marry me," Clara put her hands behind her back.

"Who's taken your fancy?" Maege chuckled gruffly.

"A boy," Clara admitted. "But he's not noble."

"Can he fight?" Maege asked. "Ride, swim, take you to bed?"

"In a couple years," Clara replied dryly.

"The man you marry may as well be your castellan," Maege rose, clapping Clara on the shoulder. "He'll inherit no land but his children will have Bear Island. If you think he's right, then I'll take your decision into consideration."

Clara watched her climb the stairs up Mormont Keep into her chambers, and smelled the smoky plume, heard the pitter-patter of rain drops just to begin, and her stomach lessen in relief.

Max/JAIME

Ser Addam turned to see Max approaching, wilting slightly to see the fury in his face.

"Let go of her," Max drew his sword, and though his father's guard itched for the hilts of their swords, the son of Lord Tywin and such an accomplished swordsmen stayed their hands.

"Your father gave his orders," Ser Addam replied, hoping it wouldn't come to blows. Lord Tywin's wrath would be their death knell, but this lion was a lot closer to home.

"Then come with me," Max suggested. "I'll give you all loads of gold."

Ser Addam shook his head, he who was to inherit Ashemark upon his father's death, and knew too well obedience as a page at Casterly Rock. His father's guards were not so stupid, either.

"Jaime," Marei managed, beneath her cowled robe, such that Lord Tywin might hope to hide the whore who had stolen his son's fancies.

"Let her go," Max repeated, the lactic acid in his muscled arms flowing, quite prepared to fight even if it meant these men died, if nothing more than to have a real fight on his hands.

Ser Addam nodded and Marei was pushed forward, clutching Max in her terror. Max procured a horse from the stables, a pouch of gold swinging at his hip and rode down the path and headed for Lannisport, dust in his wake.

Grace/MARGAERY

Grace sat dry-eyed in her father's study, while the Tyrell family rounded her like vines that slowly meant to strangle her.

"How could you?" Olenna spat, Left and Right her guards for most errands outside the door so that none might eavesdrop. "The second son of one of our bannermen, no less!"

"Nothing happened!" Grace shot out of her chair, alarming her mother who tried to quell her moods. "I held his hand for a bit, that's all."

"You've ruined your reputation," her father puffed up like a fish. "What Great House would sully their name with a rose who might have flowered? What about the king?"

"So what," Grace spat, hating her new family for taking her in, for betraying her like this, for throwing her to the side for something so elementary as a bit of passion.

Grace stormed from the chamber, through a corridor and down a set of stairs, into a nook and finding herself within the larder, tucking her legs into her as she crouched behind a barrel. Silently she began to weep, but she knew for the survival of her family's House times had to be tough. Grace began to miss the modern world; long for it, even.

Zoe/BRIENNE

"Excuse me," Zoe said gruffly to one of the cowled septons who walked the corridors in the sept of Baelor. "What's all the fuss about?"

"The Kingslayer left the capital without his Grace's leave," the acolyte admitted, his breath smelling of mint. "That's pulled the lion's tail."

"Where'd he go?" Zoe asked, not particularly caring for Max, but a twinge of anxiety over whether he'd got himself in some trouble.

"Who knows," replied the acolyte, the scratchy brown fabric not something she wanted to trade for her dented armor. "If he knows what's good for him, hiding beneath the Rock."

Adam/LORAS

Adam rode into Winterfell, feeling much like the moon above him might crash down upon him any minute, with Dickon following close by as the gates rose to permit them both.

Though he was only the third son of a wealthy House quite some distance south, Lord Stark nevertheless greeted him in the courtyard with his wife present, and his children whom he could account for bowing from the waist.

"Lord Stark," Adam bowed formally, as did his squire. "My thanks for hosting me."

"The hospitality of Winterfell is yours, Ser Loras," Ned didn't think much of Loras' flashy antics, a green boy playing at war by competing in tourneys and enjoying feasts and finery, yet all the same he befit the courtesy his father had taught him. "My wife Catelyn, and my children, Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon."

Adam nodded to them all, and was led to his chambers, and practised some sparring against Dickon in the yard while the bath was prepared, piping hot water underneath the castle making for comfort from the hot springs, while the children watched.

Sansa was in love with Loras' curls and dazzling good looks, while Robb and Theon thought little of Loras' colourful garb and rose sigil, up here in the north where hearth was home.

Clara/DACEY

From within her chambers in Mormont Keep, where she could smell the pinecones and hear the rain lashing outside and wonder what the heck she was doing in an isolated forest on some bumfuck island, the raven was welcome to receive but she frowned to see the sigil of House Tyrell. Adam was visiting Winterfell, and did she want him to visit?

"No," Clara thought to herself, a placid expression on her face as she watched the parchment curl in the grate. She hugged her knees and glanced outside at the dreary moor she called home.

Max/JAIME

Max held onto the side of the ship as it rocked back and forth, heading into the holds where Marei lay curled up in sleep. Sailors paid for with Lannister gold, unaware his father would be on the march soon enough, Max glanced out at the rain beating down, as the ship careened around Casterly Rock, the lion perched at the blanket of the Sunset Sea.

**EPILOGUE**

Adam withdrew from the simulation helmet, arms aching as though he had taken a very long bath. Around him, Clara stood with arms folded, chewing her lip while Max could feel his tubby belly so unlike Jaime's, and Grace still felt the tinge of betrayal from her Tyrell family, for disdaining her so. Zoe was already half packed and headed for the door.

"Are you guys going?" Adam's eyes bugged out of his head. "We can do another!"

"Nah," Max shook his head, as though the wrath of Lord Tywin might find him in the next simulation.

"But Zoe, what did you think?" Adam asked, as Zoe held onto the doorknob.

"I don't see what the hype is about," Zoe smirked, inciting Adam just as she left.

"Clara?" Grace asked, as her brother miserly packed up his belongings, with Max wondering if he still had Jaime Lannister's charm within him to finally lose his virginity.

"What?" Clara sloped, the strap of her backpack round her shoulder as Grace's eyes never left her, nor did Adam's who was dying to know who did what like a busybody.

"Did you see him?" Grace's eyes shone.

"Yeah," Clara replied. "He's fourteen, Grace."

"You're only a year older," Grace dampened.

"So," Clara headed out of the room, and Grace followed her all the while. "No, I didn't."

"Why not?" Grace asked, stating the obvious: "But everyone likes you, Clara."

"I dunno if he did or not," Clara replied, answering Grace's silence. "I didn't make a move."

"But don't you wish - " Grace began.

"Shut up," Clara sloped off for the double doors, and obediently Grace followed, out into the harsh bright light of the real world.


End file.
